Murderer of the Dead
by Simahoyo
Summary: Dark and controversial. Jane and the rest have to deal with the murder of a doctor who worked at a women's clinic.
1. Chapter 1

Murderer of the Dead

By Simahoyo

**A/N This is the sort of plot Tess Garettson likes so much...dark and controversial.**

I love it when Maura tells a story especially about when she was a little kid, This one was about when she was three, and her parents couldn't find her in their own house. Mind you, I have been over there, and if there is any place where you could lose a three year old, that would be that place.

"So, my parents had looked all over the house, and finally, they saw my legs sticking out in the fireplace, covered with soot."

"Good thing it was July. What were you doing?"

"I wanted to see what was up there, so I had climbed in and stuck my head up to see the inside of chimney."

"Jeez, Maur. Constance must have loved that."

"Actually, Dad dragged me out, and they listened to my explanation–but I didn't understand why one of the other of them would leave the room for a minute, then come back. A few years later, they confessed they had to leave to keep me from seeing them laughing."

I lost it, laughing until I hurt. It was just what my doctor ordered–literally. We had a case that was trying to attach itself to my every waking hour, and I couldn't let it.

A doctor had been shot in the stomach, right in front of her kids, and get this, on the front steps of her church. We were looking hard for whoever would do it. That was as heartless as I've ever seen.

The laugh helped a lot. The black cloud over my head was gone.

"Thanks, Maur', I really needed that."

Suzy walked in just then, and glanced at Maura, then looked at me.

"Detective Rizzoli, you have a visitor. "

I figured the guys had sent them down, so I got up and followed Suzie.

And standing there was my former next-door neighbor, Marissa. I had attended her wedding to a nice fellow who treated her like a queen, and she had emailed me to tell me she was pregnant about four months ago. Hey, wait–closer to five months, and she wasn't showing.

"Hey Marissa, how are you? And how's Jack?"

Then I saw the dark circles under her eyes, and the look on her face. And I shut up.

Marissa opened her mouth, wrung her hands, Closed her mouth. I waited. "Jane, I think I might have an idea who shot Dr. Locke."

Whoa, that was like dropped from heaven, but poor Marissa looked like hell. I invited her to the small interview room so we could record it, and she could have some privacy. When she sat down, I could see she was shaking.

"Take your time, and tell me about it in your own way."

She shook her hands out like pitchers do before throwing a fast ball. Then she leaned back in her chair. "I told you I was pregnant."

I nodded.

"I miscarried–well technically, the baby died before it was ever born, and I was only 5 months along."

I couldn't help gasping. That must have been terrible. I reached over on put my hand over hers.

"So, I called that really good women's clinic over in Waltham. I found out I needed three appointments, so I went to the first one, and there was this woman standing there with a really gross picture of an aborted fetus. And she was screaming at me not to murder my baby.

I was afraid to say anything because I thought she might become violent, so I walked past her into the clinic. Dr. Locke was so kind, she was aware of my feelings, and explained every test before she did it. By the time I left, there was a man standing where the woman had been, holding another sign, and he didn't scream at me, he was perfectly polite."

"Good thing I wasn't me. You know I would have lost it. And I'd hate to have to arrest myself."

Good, I made Marissa smile. I waited a bit, kind of indicating for her to go on.

Marissa blew out a breath. "So, I went to my second appointment, and everything was ready so I could get my baby's body out of me." She looked down at her hands. "God this is hard. Dr. Locke was great, and so were all the people working there. I was set up for the operation, and as I walked out, that same woman was there, with about six others with her. They all had these horrific signs, and were calling me a murderer. I know they were supposed to be further away from the door, but they were right in my face. I ran to my car."

Maura was behind us, and she looked up, "The Supreme court is allowing them closer now. Sometimes I wonder about that court. It seems as if previous incidents would inform them as to what behavior they can expect..."

"Maur, this might not be a good time, Okay?"

Maura backed off and went into her office.

Marissa gave me a ghost of a smile. "She's right, you know. By the third time, I had to push my way in, and they were talking about bringing back the escorts. But I was so worried about what would happen with a dead baby inside me."

I felt myself grow cold, thinking of my baby...I swallowed the lump in my throat.

"So, are you thinking this woman might have harmed Doctor Locke?"

"Yes! You didn't see or hear her. Talk to her. I'm sure she's in front of that clinic again. Please Jane, if she did this...think of any other women who might have to go through this..."

And I did.


	2. Chapter 2

Murderer of the Dead, Chapter 2

by Simahoyo

I made Frankie come with me, and we drove out to the clinic as I filled him in.

"Wow, poor Marissa. That was rough. I don't understand those religious types that kill people in the name of God. Isn't that what happened to Jesus?"

I nodded, knowing to shut up or he would get madder and we had to watch our mouths in that crowd. I was less worried about getting sued than what some of them might be packing. What had happened to the people from St. Benedict's and other churches just protesting quietly? How did People of Faith go from traditional belief to killing in the name of God? I sure as hell didn't get it. Ma used to be out here, before it got weird...before the nuts took over.

We pulled up in the squad car, figuring it made the point faster than an unmarked. The mob, and it was a mob, felt like one single animal, ready to pounce. The signs–oh God, they were beyond gross. I thought about my little what's her (or his) name, and wanted to protect her from these people. The pictures of blood were making me sick.

We found the one Marissa told us about. It was a good description. She was tallish, but slumped, and had an armful of literature. Her brown eyes burned with fervor. Her grey hair was frizzy–probably fried from a bad perm. She had this giant cross around her neck. Frankie caught my eye. He was embarrassed she was Italian. Me too.

"Excuse me, we're from the Boston Police Department..."

"The Supreme court said we could be here.", said a polite middle aged man.

"We are aware of that. We are from Homicide." The Italian lady looked scared. Frankie looked mad. I touched his arm to remind him not to lose it.

"It's about Doctor Locke.", said Frankie. His eyes were hard. The lady backed up a step, then another. "The doctor who was murdered."

She paled. Then she glanced over to the polite man. "Preacher Bob..." He came over and stood by her.

I took a deep breath. "A client of this clinic was being harassed by this woman and since her doctor was Dr. Locke, we thought we should speak to you.

"But she was killing babies!"

"She needs a lawyer!", said Preacher Bob, and an oily looking type was there in seconds. He had red hair, slicked back, and was dressed in a suit Korsak would have worn before Kiki came into his life.

"Don't say another word." said the lawyer and things went downhill from there.

It was tense riding in the squad car with the suspect and her lawyer, especially since I could see Frankie grinding his jaw. Maybe everyone would keep their mouths shut until they got to HQ and inside a nice interview room.

We had already read her her rights. She just looked confused. I pulled out my cell, and kept it to my ear for privacy. When Maura answered, I tried to sound positive.

"HI. We need you for an interview."

"Oh, what kind of interview?", Maura sounded suspicious.

" Oh you know, like you did before with the lady who attacked the wedding cake."

"NO. Not after you said you had a know it all in your ear. I dislike those interviews, and I would prefer the department use a real psychiatrist."

"But you are so good at it. Please." Drawing out the please almost always worked. I waited.

"If you insist. Call when you are ready for me."

"Thank you, Doctor."

I glanced at Frankie, who smirked.

"If your psychologist is unsure of himself, you could always use mine." The lawyer's voice came from the back seat.

Frankie gave him a cold look. "It's a little ritual we go through, but our shrink is really good. We trust her completely."

I turned to smirk at him, a non-verbal atta boy. When you grow up with someone, you practically have a whole other language.

Our Perp kept mumbling stuff, and I'm pretty sure I heard her talking about doctors that murder babies. Since there was a lot of word salad, I decided to put that in my mental file, and see what I could find out from the interview.

Since Mo was not looking, I parked in front. Frankie and I herded them into the station.

We got everybody settled, and re-read her her rights. Yes, I was crossing every little. "T" and dotting every single, "I". She sat slack-jawed, looking like a frightened puppy. I thought I would start with something easy.

"What's your name?"

She looked at her lawyer, who nodded. "Maria Carolina Delfino."

"Alright, Maria. How long have you been protesting outside that clinic?"

"Three years?"

"Five years, Maria", said her lawyer.

Maura's voice was in my ear. "She sounds confused at the very least. Ask her address, date of birth, and what time it is."

I nodded so Maura would know I heard and understood.

"What is your address?"

"Eleven oh..." the silence dragged. She looked at her lawyer.

"Eleven oh four East Baxter Street, number twenty-one.", he said.

"What is your date of birth?"

"Twenty one."

"What year were you born?"

She grimaced trying to remember. "Nineteen sixty."

Frankie plunged in. "How old are you?"

"Sixty...ummm, Sixty."

I pointed up at the clock, "What time is it?"

"Don't answer that.", said the lawyer. Frankie shot him a look.

"Clearly she is impaired. I suggest you search her purse and house, if you can without a warrant.", said Maura.

I thought the lawyer would get picky, but I decided to try anyway.

"I would like to look inside your purse, please, so we can help you remember a few details." Like her age.

I was surprised she handed it over without a peep from her or her lawyer. I opened it, and took out her wallet, the state ID card assured me she wasn't driving, and gave me her name, date of birth, and the she was an organ donor. I hoped nobody wanted her brain. I gave it to Frankie to make a copy, then noticed a concealed carry permit. That made me nervous. Without a word, I handed it to Frankie. His eyebrow shot up.

"Why don't you make copies of those documents?"

"I will." He stood, and as he left he moved his head toward where Maura was sitting. I nodded.

I then decided to dig in again, just in case. I had a feeling, and no matter what Maura says, my intestines were talking to me. I wrapped my hand in a handkerchief that was in the purse, and dug. I knew what it was when I felt it. I brought it out slowly. It was a Ruger LCR Revolver. I looked at the lawyer, whose lips tightened.

"Is this your gun?"

Maria looked at it and smiled. "It's to protect the babies."


	3. Chapter 3

Murderer of the Dead, Chapter 3

by Simahoyo

I wandered down to talk to Maura, when I noticed Suzie with her eyes all red. Looked like she had been crying. I try not to be nosy like Ma, but she looked upset.

"Hey, are you okay?"

Suzie jumped a little. I guess I startled her. "Oh, it's this case." She looked down, deciding if she wanted to say more. "Dr. Locke was my cousin."

"I'm really sorry. This case... How are her kids?"

"Mom has them. Their Dad was killed in a traffic accident. Poor little things years ago. Mom is really great with them. And Tina was one of the best mothers I've ever met."

"It's a good thing she can help them. Let her know we will do everything we can to solve this."

Suzie's eyes filled up, and she nodded. I felt my own eyes tear up, and I tried to smile at her. Maura poked her head out and caught my eye, so I followed her into her office.

She had files all over her desk, sorted into neat little stacks. "You know that woman is not competent. But, that's not a legal opinion. Did that gun seem awfully easy to find to you?'

"I was just going to mention it seemed planted. Which is why I brought it down to you." I laid it on her desk, with the handkerchief still around it.

She looked at it suspiciously. "I'll have it printed, and tested against the bullet we took out of Dr. Locke. Something may be rotten in the Commonwealth of Massachusetts."

"Yeah, my gut already told me. And Suzie told me it was her cousin. I hate this case."

"So do I. "

I had to get at least one of our minds off this. "How's Jack Armstrong?"

Maura's smile brought out her dimple. "He has no serious, life threatening diseases, and he's not in a witness protection program."

I high-fived her. It was about time she found somebody–well, normal. She deserves the best, and

Maybe, finally, she's found someone I can even stand. "Have you introduced him to your parents, sister or to Hope?"

Maura winced. "Why would I do that to someone I liked? Constance would be fine, but Dad goes all protective as if I were still fifteen. I may introduce him to Caylin, but Hope is rather too much. But, I have already introduced him to Angela."

"You are a braver woman than I am. I have to meet Frankie. We need to search her place, and the warrant should be here about now."

Frankie walked around the corner with a document in his hand. My gut was having a good day.

"Hey, is that the warrant?"

"Yup. Let's go, but I hope she isn't one of those hoarders. Remember that guy with the Bobby Hull ice skates?

"Yeah, I do. I'm driving."

"You always drive."

"I'm the oldest."

"Don't try that when I'm sixty. By then you'll have Alzheimer's, and Tommy and I will have to wrestle the keys away from you."

I couldn't think of a reply, so I stuck my tongue out at him.

By the time we got to her place, we were all serious again. Her house was one of those little old placed from the forties. There was a tree taking up most of the yard, a patch of grass that needed mowing, and a three step stoop.

Frankie knocked. "Boston Police."

We waited. We could hear somebody thumping around, then a huge guy with a walker opened the door. He had to be six-five, and his shoulders filled the door frame. From his looks, I figured he might be Maria's son.

"My mother isn't home."

"Where is she?", asked Frankie.

"Where else, protesting the Women's Clinic. Do you have warrant? You can come in a search this  
place if you do."

I raised my eyebrow at Frankie. Interesting reaction there. Frankie showed him the warrant.

He backed out the doorway. "Come on in. I'll wait in my bedroom until you get there." He thumped his way across the room..

Frankie and I searched and my Gut was niggling at me. I was wondering what we would find.

This time it was Frankie going through a drawer and pulling out a manila file, filled with clippings about the Women's Clinic, stories downloaded from the internet, and a handwritten note with the address of the church and notes on the times of services.. I paged through it, my dread growing.  
Maria Delfino was not competent enough to be this organized.

Frankie looked at me, silent then, "Someone set this up. I wonder who. There were enough of them out there protesting."

"I really didn't like that lawyer. And Preacher Bob seemed to good to be true.'

"Someone is pulling her strings. Let's find out who."


	4. Chapter 4

Murderer of the Dead, Chapter 4

**Thanks for your reviews, favorites and follows. This is a hard one, so I'm glad to have your company on this ride.**

Frankie took the files, and I knocked softly on the son's door.

"Come in.", His voice was soft and didn't match his size at all. I opened the door, and saw him sitting on an easy chair. There was a folding chair leaning on the wall, so I opened it and sat facing him.

"What's you name?"

"Michael"

"I would like to learn more about your mother, if that's okay with you."

"I suppose. I guess her lawyer attached himself to her the second he saw you speak to her."

"Good guess. Do you trust him?"

"No way. Those creeps from the Baby Rescue Squad are...using her."

"Oh?" I shut up because Korsak taught me that silence is something a suspect will try to fill.

Michael shifted. "She's lost it some, over the years. This has always been her big issue, ever since she found out I was exposed to atrazine before I was born, and I had spina bifida. She decided that I deserved to live...wouldn't hear of aborting me, and dedicated her life to stopping abortions so kids like me would be born."

I was a little take aback by that. If it had been me, I would have become an environmental nut.

"How much time did she spend on this while you were growing up?"

He shrugged. "About one a week when I was little. The prayer vigils with St. Benedict's. Then she met Preacher Bob, and she changed."

"How did she change?'

"She left the Catholic church, and joined his Holy Roller church. Then she started going to the clinic three days a week. She got this literature that made me sick to read, and those signs. I make her keep them in the garage when she isn't using them."

"And how did she meet that lawyer?"

Michael's laugh was bitter. "He appeared out of the mists of Hell at one of the protests."

"Oh, so you don't like him?"

"I had hoped she would calm down some, and stop with the super protesting, but that lawyer eggs them on, and covers their tracks. Is there anything you can arrest him for?"

"Not that I can figure out yet, but I'll make a point of looking. I should have a chat with Preacher Bob first. Do you know his church's address?' 

Frankie and I found the church, a storefront in an old restaurant in Revere. Frankie was even less impressed with this group after reading the files. He showed me what looked like a hit list of abortion doctors, with names crossed out, including Doctor Locke. If was printed from a web page.

"Oh boy, I can just tell how much I'm gonna love reading through this web site and it's links." he made a gagging noise. I had to agree with him. We walked into the church, the Church of the Born Again Souls.

It was quiet inside, with folding chairs set up in a semi circle like for an AA meeting, There was a blackboard off to one side, and Preacher Bob was erasing some Bible verses. He turned around and looked at us. "Oh, hello. I have a meeting here in about fifteen minutes, but I believe I have time to talk to you for a bit."

"Good. We just returned from Maria Delfino's house, and we do have some questions."

"Please sit down." he motioned to the chairs. We took our seats, and he turned one to face us both. "What would you like to ask?"

"Does Mrs Delfino seem confused to you?"

"Oh yes, she has gotten older–you know how it gets, where you forget things? But she's an adult, and perfectly able to take care of herself."

"Has she ever forgotten her address?"

"Can't say that I ever saw that, but she no longer drives. Her sight isn't what it used to be, so we from the church drive her wherever she wants to go. It's the Christian thing to do"

"Who drove her most often?"

"Oh Red, um, Leon Gules, our lawyer."

That didn't surprise me for even a second. Frankie took the web page copy out of his file and handed it to Preacher Bob.

"What is this?"

"We found it in Mrs. Delfino's desk."

"But that is murder! Why would anyone trying to save lives want to risk God's wrath by taking lives? It makes me sick, and I cannot think where she got this. She played around a bit with computers at the library, she told me about it, but how did she find that?" He handed it back like a dead fish, and wiped his hands on his trousers.

"Preacher Bob, that you so much for talking to us. We have Leon Gules' card, and I'm sure he may be able to fill us in too. You were very helpful"

Frankie and I walked back to our car. "So, what does your gut say?"

"My gut says, it isn't him. It also says you are going to be cuddled up to your computer for a while."

"Oh, thanks for the sympathy, Sis. I may need a barf bag."


	5. Chapter 5

Murderer of the Dead, Chapter 5

I expected one of two things for the Lawyer, Red Gules' office, a fancy, upscale place like one of Maura's lawyers might have, or a storefront like that church. Wrong. It was inside an old building that probably saw Mayor Curley drop by for a payoff or two.

It was clean and the halls didn't smell bad. In fact, it smelled like floor wax. The doors were old, dark wood, with white glass, and the names stenciled on in black. Frankie and I climbed the stairs, since the elevator also looked like something Mayor Curley had used.

I opened the door, hoping it led to a receptionist, and not his private lair. The desk had a laptop, a little black box and some wires to the computer. I looked my question at Frankie.

"It's a router. I'll explain more later."

I kinda hate when he knows more than me. The lady behind the desk was normal looking, and had a nice smile. She looked to be from India or one of those places nearby. He hair was straight and well behaved. She looked up at us. "May I help you?"

"Boston Police. I'm Detective Rizzoli and this is...Detective Rizzoli" That sounded ridiculous.

"We would like to speak to Mr. Gules." As the receptionist went into his office, Frankie murmured, "Real classy intro there, Janie."

"Your turn next time. We'll see how clever you are, genius."

The door opened and the receptionist motioned us inside. We went in and faced Red Gules. His eyes were flat and his face was stony. "Detectives, you have heard of Lawyer-client confidentiality?"

"Yes", said Frankie. So what if we just ask about you, and not your client?"

Gules shrugged. "I'll let you know if I can answer."

"Are you a member of the Church of the Born Again Souls?"

"No, I am not."

That was interesting. I let Frankie keep going, since he seemed to be on a roll. "Are you a member of the Baby Rescue Squad?"

"I am not."

Frankie looked at me. "Then why do you defend their members?" I asked.

"Our judicial system doesn't work unless someone defends the accused. I'm a member of the Lawyer's Guild. I take on the ones no one else will."

That stumped me for a second. Most defenders worked for the state or were slime. I had assumed he was slime.

"Do you ask them if they are guilty when you take on a case?"

"I am with Horace Rumpole, 'There is no evidence more unreliable than a confession. Don't imagine people ever tell the truth about themselves.'"

Not funny, I thought. "Do you often drive people around?"

He bit his lower lip, and looked to the right without moving his head. "That's getting awfully close to client-attorney privilege."

Frankie smiled. "Do you ever drive others around?"

"That's one of those damned if you answer, damned if you don't questions."

Frankie took out the copy of the web page and set it before Gules.

Gules looked at it as if a dead fish was wrapped up in it. "What is that?"

"You've never seen it before?"

Gules pushed it away. "No."

"Thank you for your time. ", I said, and we left."

In the car, we played, "what do we know?"

"So, he obviously drove her around."

"He's not involved in the church or the political group."

"He never saw that web page before. Did you see the look on his face?"

"Yeah. You know what that means?"

Frankie frowned. "A night with that web page. I wonder if Ma has anything good in her fridge. She's still working."

I almost felt sorry enough for him to offer to help.


	6. Chapter 6

Murderer of the Dead, Chapter 6

**A/N Sorry about the delays. My modem went away, and the new one took a while to arrive.**

I hate morning sickness! I also hate the view of my toilet bowl right after I wake up. I forced some crackers down, and went to work.

I avoided the café. I learned the hard way it was a bad place to visit first thing in the morning. So, I walked right into the office, where little brother was holding court for the guys. Even Crowe was looking impressed.

"Hey, what's going on?"

Frankie puffed up like he always does when he finds something good "That web page we found? It isn't from a hate site. It's part of a role playing game."

"Are you kidding me? How long did it take for you to find that out?"

"About two hours."

"After you raided Ma's fridge because you thought it would be an all nighter?"

"YOU thought it was going to be an all nighter. And Ma gave me turkey parmigano. Yumo!"

I thought about the left over pizza I had last night. But Korsak was looking at me, expecting me to say something nice. I drummed my fingers on my desk. "So, how did you find out it was from a role playing game?"

"I followed the links, and every one of them went to other role playing games. The webmaster was proud enough to sign his work, so I found him, and we can go interview him today."

I really was jealous, uh, impressed. Frankie is getting good with that computer stuff. "Good work!"

Frankie grinned like it was Christmas morning.

RandR..RandR...RandR...RandR...RandR RandR..RandR...RandR...RandR...RandRRandR

When we went to the house, it was in a typical suburban neighborhood. Good enough for the Cleavers, and about that age. The lawn needed water and was a little long, but about what I expected from a computer guy.

Frankie rang the doorbell, and a voice came out of a little camera setup next to the door.

"Can I help you?"

"Boston Police. We are here to speak to Mason Smilanich."

"Okay. I'm down in the basement, just a minute."

"What's the point of the security if he didn't even check our badges?", asked Frankie. I shrugged.

The door opened to reveal a guy about thirty, with glasses, a T shirt with something about Comic Con on it, and jeans. His new looking sneakers rested on the footpads of a very sleek racing wheelchair. He might have combed his hair, but who am I to talk?

I waited for Frankie to introduce us better than I had. "Detectives Rizzoli and Rizzoli. We have some questions about a web page you manage."

"Huh, I knew you were related. Come on in. You can ride down in the elevator to see my setup. That way you can follow what our RPGs are about."

We followed him down in a small elevator to his basement. It looked as if there had been an explosion in an electronics factory. There were three big screen monitors, two keyboards, a big computer, and some black boxes strung together.

"Wow! Is that the Cisco E4200 V2 N900? And a Motorola surfboard? Nice!" Frankie was practically drooling.

"Yup. These babies do a nice job. You wanted to know about one of my web pages? Which one?"

Frankie handed him the page. He typed in some stuff, and up popped "Doctor Vengeance!" in bright red, bleeding letters.

"The page was created by BDAvenger32. I played it a couple of times. It's a little complicated, but that's what a lot of players like. It's related to chess in a way."

He moved to another screen, "Choose doctors or scientists." He brought up some random male or female characters in lab coats. "You start with these pawns, and as you earn points, you can move on to the big names, like Jenner, Galileo, Salk...you get the idea. The other side is those who hate doctors and scientists, like the Pope that excommunicated Galileo, Rasputin, and those types."

"And those pawns?", I asked. Suspicion was nibbling at a corner of my mind.

He brought up the page, and there were a bunch of suit and tie men and women. "They had better not be cops.", I thought. And then a group with those gross signs like the ones we saw outside the clinic. I had to hang on to myself to keep from jumping to a conclusion.

"Did BDAvenger32 tell you who they are supposed to be?", asked Frankie.

"Congress and those whack jobs that shoot abortion doctors."

"Is that you talking, or him talking?", I asked.

"Him talking. I think all politicians are liars and cheats, so I refuse to vote."

I bit my tongue. I have my opinions, but I wasn't going to get dragging into a political discussion with my kid brother whose politics are kinda out there. I hoped he wouldn't take the bait.

"Yeah, I hear ya brother!" And, he took the bait. I gave him the old death stare, and he shut up.

So, do you know this BDAvenger guy's real name?"

The computer guy typed in something and other stuff came up automatically, then there was a name–a very familiar name. I looked at Frankie. He looked at me.

"Interesting. Let's go see our puppetmaster." We took off to meet BDAverger.


	7. Chapter 7

Murderer of the Dead Chapter 7

It took some persuading, but finally the judge issued a warrant, and we took it to the Delfino house. Michael came to the door, his eyes took in the warrant, and a shadow appeared under his face.

"Oh." He stood aside and let us in. He sat down in the living room, under the picture of Christ with the little children. I almost felt sorry for him.

"You have some explaining to do.", I said gently.

He nodded his head. "Yeah. I guess I thought I was smarter than I am. But you didn't have to live with her. She told everybody how she protected me, and refused to let anyone hurt her precious baby. But after I was too old to be taken to her rallies and meetings and protests as exhibit A, she lost interest. I suppose you are taking this all down.

Frankie read him his rights. "Now we are taking everything down. I saw your school record. You did pretty good. I noticed you got a scholarship to business school."

"Yes, then I worked as a network specialist for a major bank. Then the recession hit and my mother lost her mind. I stayed home to take care of her, but she hooked up with that crazy anti-abortion group, and I couldn't keep her out of trouble. I just got so mad at the whole situation."

"So when did you decide to have your mother kill Doctor Locke?"

"She wasn't supposed to be able to hit her. She doesn't see well, so I thought she couldn't possibly hit anyone. I just thought she would miss, and get arrested, and someone would see how looney she is, and she would be committed." His face was red, and his eyes teared up.

"Lord what tangles humans weave when they practice to deceive", I thought.. "So then you tried to cover it all up."

"Yeah. She was supposed to miss. Really. I never meant to have anyone die."

"But someone did die, and you used your own mother to pull the trigger. Then you tried to cover it all up."

"But those nuts deserve to be in jail."

I thought of something, looked at Frankie, and saw the same thought written on his face.

"What does DBAvenger mean"

He set his jaw, and his eyes burned with a fervor that worried me. "Birth Defect Avenger."

And that explained the whole sordid mess. Fanatic versus fanatic. I was done with this, thank God, so Frankie and I made the arrest and took him in.

RandR...RandR...RandR...RandR...RandR...RandR...RandR...RandR...RandR...RandR...

We went to Doctor Locke's funeral for Suzie's sake, and in my case, to accompany Marissa and her husband. I am still haunted by those little kid's eyes, filled with hurt at losing their mother. I reached over and took Ma's hand, and she squeezed back. Sometimes other people make us seem so normal.

The End


End file.
